Happy Bloody Birthday
by BlasterBlurby
Summary: Very angsty naruto birthday fic. enjoy.


1Happy Bloody Birthday

The entire city of Konoha was in mourning.

Shops were closed for the day, and the normally bustling streets were empty.

All the shutters were tightly closed and locked, concealing the grieving families that lay just behind them.

The few that braved the outside walked like they held a tremendous weight upon their backs and they hid their sallow faces beneath hoods or behind coat collars.

Should they happen to pass one another they would avert their eyes and shuffle pass without a word.

A shinobi's anguish is not something that is shared, but rather hidden under a scab, so it can fester silently and unseen, like an infected wound upon the soul.

It was late autumn and the wind stretched its chilly fingers through the city, combing the streets as if searching for someone to torment.

It blew on a lone pedestrian with its ghostly breath, and whispered in his ear like a phantom lover come back from the grave; just to rip into the crusty, oozing scab; lapping at the putrid mess beneath.

The man drew his collar tighter about his face and hurried into his home to escape from the wind's prying grasp.

As if angered at losing its prey the terrible breeze grabbed at the trees belligerently and shook them fiercely, the leaves that were stained crimson by the autumn season shivered violently and came loose.

The wind threw them about, not letting the bloody sheets rest on ground for more than moment before tossing them back into the air like an arterial spray.

So absorbed was it, in its macabre dance, that it hardly took notice of the lone figure perched in the tree that it had just stripped of its foliage.

The figure shivered in the bright orange jacket that had allowed him to blend seamlessly into the autumn leaves.

Now that his cover had just blown away he would have been easily spotted; had there been anyone outside to spot him.

But there was no one; they wouldn't be looking for him until night fall.

The day was always dedicated to honoring dead, but the darkness always stoked their hate.

Tucking his head closer to his chest; he had to blink away the stinging wetness that filled his eyes when the cold air blew into them.

Soon the wind passed; parading jubilantly further down the street.

The blond shinobi stood, and the shift in weight made the naked branch he was perched on creak like a loose floorboard.

That small noise rang out like an explosion in the deserted street, and the shinobi flinched; his cerulean eyes flickered about the ghost town as his senses searched for any threat.

There was nothing but a long, abysmal silence.

Letting out a held breath, Naruto slid from the tree and onto the ground.

He made no noise this time.

Noting the position of sun he quickened his step, he would have to find another suitable hiding place before dark.

Being in the open at night was never a good idea this time of year.

The normally raucous shinobi now moved like apparition.

Any other time he would do anything to draw the attention of the villagers, but not now, not tonight.

Tonight seeking the attention of the villagers would have painful, if not deadly consequences.

Tonight stealth would keep him alive.

Tonight hiding would let him see another year of life.

He could not go to his apartment.

That would the first place they looked.

He could not go to Tsunade.

As far as he knew she wasn't aware of the annual 'demon hunts', and he didn't want to involve her in something she could do nothing to stop.

If she was aware, as Sarutobi was aware, and chose to do nothing; he did not want to know.

Taking refuge at a friend's house was out of the question for many reasons.

Mainly that he didn't want them drawn into it; this was his burden to bear, no one else's.

Besides, many of their parents had participated enthusiastically in the past; it would be absurd to think they would offer him sanctuary now.

How a parent could happily torture an innocent child was beyond him, but then again, to the villagers he was neither a child nor an innocent.

Just a demon.

Hiding in the forest had been the most successful tactic as a child, until they started using hounds to track him down.

Naruto's arms instinctively wrapped around his chest in a tight hug as the teen recalled the pain and terror of being mauled by a pack of dogs.

When the dogs were finally called off there had been chunks of his flesh missing; eaten by the hungry canines.

He survived it; in the end he always survived.

To them it was about vengeance, but for Naruto it was a trial by fire.

If he could come out alive year after year of having most of the shinobi in the village out for his blood, then he didn't have to question his own strength.

He was stronger than them and their hate; they could harm his body but not his soul.

They were the weak ones, not him.

They called him a monster, but they were monsters too.

They were just monsters of a different kind.

This was his first birthday since he returned from his three year absence, and he could almost taste bloodlust in the air.

Having been denied their yearly 'therapy sessions' three times in a row would surely work them into a frenzy; a frenzy that could only be satisfied by his screams.

He would have simply left on a mission that required him to leave the area; Tsunade would give him one if he asked, but the Village Council had ordered Tsunade to not to give the "demon" missions outside of the village because of the Akatsuki threat.

For once the Council was protecting their investment; the investment being the demon inside him.

Naruto was not a genius, but he certainly wasn't the idiot he preferred people to think of him as.

He knew that the village was under a lot of pressure lately, and asking Tsunade to go against the Council's wishes would only make it worse.

He was alone, but that was better than being a nuisance to his precious people; he would rather die than be a troublesome existence.

Naruto shook his head in a child-like gesture to clear away the morbid thoughts that ran through his head whenever there was nothing to distract him.

After using a concoction to disguise his scent; the blond looped throughout the city, leaving misleading scent trails for the dogs to follow.

Just in case.

Naruto wiped off the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead during his sprint, and glanced at the sky.

The sun had settled low on the horizon and painted the scenery red, as if foreshadowing the bloodshed that was to come.

The moon had already made its appearance in the sky, like it was impatient for the restricting chains of the day to break and the madness of the night to begin.

Naruto swallowed nervously; making his false trails had taken more time than he was comfortable with.

Still being out in the open was dangerous this close to sunset.

The red orb to the east sank another inch, and the blond shinobi cursed himself for stalling the inevitable.

_That_ place would be the safest for him to hide at, even if it dredged up bad memories.

Moving swiftly, Naruto's feet carried him to the only place he could think of that would provide sanctuary for him.

The Uchiha Compound had been deserted since Sasuke left, and the once regal gates were rusted and in disrepair.

When Naruto pushed a gate open, its hinges unleashed a shrill scream that made his ears ache.

Rusty flakes chipped away from the gate and the red powder stained his hands scarlet.

Naruto endured yet another of the door's screeches so he could close it, and then made his way down the unkempt path that led to the main house.

He had to push his way through a few ambitious brambles that had set root among the cobbles.

The setting sun cast long shadows that gathered in corners and among the trees; their sable fingers stretching farther the lower the fiery orb sank behind the horizon.

The young shinobi couldn't help but shiver as he walked down the darkening street.

Small shop fronts and homes lined the road, and he could tell that the street had once been heart of the Uchiha Clan; now it was lonely and decrepit.

Naruto hastened his footsteps; he did not want to linger here.

The Uchiha Clan mansion was huge and even though it only had one floor it seemed to rise up and loom threateningly over Naruto, like a predator crouching over its prey in anticipation.

Naruto's mouth became dry at the thought, but he straightened his slumping shoulders and jerked the surprisingly unlocked door open.

Such was his surprise that he nearly jerked the aging door off its rusted hinges.

What little light was left slid through the new opening, and lit as far as it could stretch in a soft glow.

The house was still fully furnished though dusty and untouched ever since the last Uchiha left.

Moving across the floorboards, Naruto felt along the walls until he found the lamps that hung there.

After the blonde fumbled with them in the near-darkness for a few seconds, he was able to turn a few of them on.

With enough light to see by Naruto quickly shut the door, and locked it against the night.

Naruto did not sit on the furniture; he was an intruder in this house and sitting on the couches seemed rude and disrespectful to the dead.

Instead he cleared a space on the floor and sat in the corner with his arms wrapped tensely around his knees.

The silence was unbearable, but Naruto was unwilling to make a noise.

He wanted to cry and scream his pain until it echoed in the mansion, but he had made a promise to himself a long time ago that he would never vocalize his despair.

After all, crying out is a survival technique used to solicit help; there was no point in it if no one was there to listen.

Crying made the shinobi feel weak.

As a child he saw mothers and fathers comfort their children when they cried, but no one was there to comfort him.

Crying made him feel so terribly alone.

But there were other ways of releasing all of his pent up emotions.

He waited, still as a statue, until the silent loneliness built inside him.

Until the roaring emptiness was all he could hear.

Until he had to release the terrible pressure in his chest.

When he was so close to screaming that he could hardy draw in a breath, he took out his kunai and drew it over his left wrist.

The pain was immediate, and soothing like a cool balm.

Naruto's breath hitched as he watched the bright crimson seep from the wound, but he steadied his breathing quickly.

The floor soaked up the blood so quickly, like it was thirsty for fresh blood.

Naruto was sure that his friends wouldn't understand why he slashed his wrists.

Sasuke they would believe was a cutter in a heartbeat, but not Naruto, not their bright cheerful idiot Naruto.

They would try to stop him, but that would only kill him.

He needed this self-inflicted pain to keep living out his tortuous existence.

This moment between the cutting and rapid healing was his and his alone, and Naruto would kill to keep it.

As quick as it started it was over, with nothing but a smear of blood and flawless skin as a reminder.

Perhaps he wouldn't do it repeatedly if he could have had a scar.

A single scar would do.

He wanted, needed to remember the euphoria.

But just like all the times before there was no evidence of what he had done, and so when the pressure would begin to build again, he would make himself bleed.

It was late into the night, and if Naruto strained his ears hard enough he could hear the mob in the distance.

They wouldn't find him.

They wouldn't find him.

They wouldn't find him.

Like a mantra those four words were repeated in his mind, but they did little to calm his dread.

With a shaking hand the blond shinobi reached into his jacket and pulled out his most precious possession.

It was something so special to him that he kept it tied over his heart, but hidden from others beneath his jacket.

It was his Face.

It was the Face that only his enemies saw, and only right before they died.

It was the Face that covered his Mask.

Even if Danzo had been the one to hand it to him; in actuality it had been the entire village that gave it to him.

The only birthday gift Naruto had ever received.

In return for Naruto working secretly for Danzo the "Sasuke Issue" would be ignored by the council; giving him enough time to get the deserter back.

It was the only way Naruto could keep his childhood friend safe from his own stupidity.

At first he was hesitant about becoming one of Danzo's lapdogs, but the blond had grown addicted to it, and he soon became reliant on the release it gave him.

Nothing relieved his stress better than killing, and that was what scared him so much in the beginning.

Looking at his Face now, he could not help but regret the sacrifice he had made in order to save that prick Sasuke, who wouldn't even be grateful.

The front of his Face was deceivingly plain; a white fox, but it had a perpetual grin, just like his Mask.

The back, however, was anything but plain.

This, like the wrist cutting, was his and only his.

Naruto flipped his Root ANBU mask over and looked at the inside of it like a junkie eyeballing his next fix.

Knowing it would only hurt him in the end, but still being unable to resist the high.

The inside was painted black by Naruto soon after he had received it, and since then every time he cut himself he wrote in red ink a truth that the village had taught him about himself.

The truths read like this-

"I am a monster."

"I will never be loved."

"I will always have to hide my true self."

"I can only have nightmares."

"I will never have a family."

"I am a necessary evil."

"I will never have your forgiveness."

"I am more lowly than the vilest of creatures."

"I am only a tool."

"I will die alone."

"I cannot save my first bond."

"I can only kill."

Naruto was silently crying by the time he read the last message, because his Face was ugly, and because the truth behind it was what made it so ugly.

His Mask was so much prettier; it had bright, shining blue eyes, messy blond hair, and cute whisker marks, but it was lie.

Why did the lies have to be so much prettier than the truths?

Naruto drew the blood red pen out of his pocket, and began to write an ugly truth.

Even as the tears ran down his pretty lie.

"I will never have someone sing me Happy Birthday."

So absorbed was Naruto in his ritual, that he didn't notice their approach until the front door of the Uchiha mansion swung open.

And the night began.

Whew, I'm glad this fic is finally over. I think if I wrote anymore I'd start slashing my own wrists. (– . –) I may be interested in writing another chapter; after all I know how frustrating a cliff-hanger can be, but I'd rather get some positive responses before I decide whether to move forward with this.

Incase my writing is too obtuse, I'd just like to explain clearly that what Naruto refers to as his "Face" is really an ANBU mask, and his "Mask" is his actual face.

Reviews are your friend! Even if its to tell me I did something wrong please review! My ego can take the cheap shots, although like most writers I would ask that if you are going to criticize my work that you don't just give me a problem! Give me a solution!


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